Concert Review: Bachelorette, Pikelet, Andrew Morgan and Big City Livin'
BY JENI SCHROFF
Having previously lived in New Zealand, I was especially excited to see one of the country's best exports at the Jackpot on Monday night. Solo pop-synth princess-turned-band Bachelorette, might not have brought in the big crowds, but she definitely stole all of our hearts.
Jeni Schroff
Lawrence native Andrew Morgan appeared first on stage, greeting the eight or ten assembled accordingly. He opted to start the night off with emotion-packed ballads, presumably not to frighten off the few quiet Jackpot-goers. The heat proved too intense and when Andrew asked for the stage lights to be turned down, the set took a turn towards dark, melancholy-ridden, brooding melodies with a bit of awkward mumbled conversation in-between songs.
Playing mostly from his second album, Please Kid, Remember, the wistful singer-songwriter and his lonely guitar proved that emotion doesn't just come in teenage-sized packages. Andrew brought enough of it to share with everyone at the bar in grown-up-sized portions with an indie-folk tinge.
Soon after, Evelyn Morris, otherwise known as Australian solo artist Pikelet, skipped on stage with enough enthusiasm and girl-next-door charm to win over any crowd, or lack thereof. The former hardcore/indie drummer and vocalist quickly had all eyes and ears on her as she began masterfully tying together incredible melodies of looped hand-clapping, acoustic guitar, accordion, non-traditional percussion and a piano.
With a pixie cut, glasses and a little red vintage dress, the small girl with the big sound kept the crowd in anticipation of what she would do with her loop pedal next. She innocently added simple explanations between songs such as, "this one's about my friends and writing postcards to them" or "that one was about a gentleman being made out of pure light."
Jeni Schroff Evelyn (left) and Annabel
After a 30-minute set of spacey pop, tangled melodies and looped, bongo-ridden, dancey numbers, Evelyn was joined on stage by Bachelorette's leading lady, Annabel Alpers, and drummer/guitarist Craig Terris to form the headlining group of the night.
As the brains, beauty and breathy alto voice of Bachelorette, Annabel quickly reminded me of the quiet, unassuming, good girl from high school who shamelessly sported nerdy-chic fashions before they were cool again. When Annabel's keyboard-pop-synth jives weren't lighting up the stage, her denim top, equipped with electric, sparkling lights flashing in random sequences picked up where she left off.
Then the band went a bit further into the electronic field, picking up the pace and layering in some funky, disco-inspired numbers with Annabel and Craig instructing the low-key crowd that it was time to "shake their booties." The offer was tempting enough, but most kept things keyed down to an upbeat tapping foot or bobbing head.
The set included mostly numbers from Bachelorette's recently released album, My Electric Family, such as "Where to Begin," "Technology Boy" and "Dream Sequence" with a couple tracks from her previously released album, Isolation Loops, thrown in for good measure.
After entertaining the small but now fully engrossed show-goers with a colorful light show, entrancing futuristic sounds and some meek banter, Annabel picked up a particularly pretty guitar for the last number and genuinely thanked us for coming out.
It might have been the 20-somethingth U.S. stop for the Kiwi three-piece, and Craig informed me the band hadn't had a night off in weeks, but you'd never know it. Bachelorette has been said to be the new face of electro pop in New Zealand, but I can't imagine it being too long before they gain that title in the states as well.
By the time the final act of the night, the one-man outfit Big City Livin, hit the stage with Nintendo-inspired back beats and chaotic electric guitar noise, four faithful friends stood in front of the stage, while the rest of us quickly exited.
The night's sounds were still dancing in my head and I didn't want them to be shattered by BCL's screaming antics. His songs might have average a mere minute and a half in length, but the incoherent madness that ensued were enough to haunt my dreams forever.
I'll take shiny, inventive small-town New Zealand dream-pop over that any day.
2 comment(s) / Post a Comment
